Friday, November 30, 2012

So, I need to change the name of this here blog. I don't need to, need to, but I want to. The reasons are twofold:

#1. The original name (You Shall Be My Squishy) comes from my nickname for babies ("Hello, Squishy! You are SO SQUISHY!"), but it is also a reference to a scene in Finding Nemo. Now, listen. I'm not dogging the movie. I like the movie. I totally stole my nickname for babies from the movie! It's just that I may be sending the wrong message by referencing a Disney/Pixar film when I like to say "fuck" a lot. Know what I mean?

#2. I don't want to get sued. I do understand that in order to get sued, more than 10 people would have to read this. However, I am ever hopeful that my readership will expand exponentially and at that point, it would be super awkward when Disney/Pixar calls and says, "Hey. Those are our words. Pay us a lot of money if you want to use them." And then I'll have to be like, "Dude. I don't have any money. You do, though! Want to pay me for reminding people how much they like Finding Nemo?" And then they'd be all, "No. We don't. You have to pay us. Get a lawyer." And I'd be like, "Can't. Refer back to the no money part." And it would be this whole long, awful battle wherein Disney/Pixar would win anyway and I'd have to change the name in the end. SO! I'm beating them to the punch. Genius, no?

Point is, I'm changing the name. I'd like to keep Squishy in there, cause that's what I called (and still periodically call) my babies and I like it. So there. Plus, so many possible references and innuendos, so little time.

I think I've come up with a suitable replacement. I'd like to try it out on you. Let me know what you think. I'll put it in big, flashy letters so you're impressed and stuff. Ready?!? The new name will be:

Becoming Squishy

So?!? What say you? Is it good? Is it catchy? Is the font big enough? DO YOU LIKE IT?!?!

I mean, it kind of doesn't matter, because I have to change it anyway since Disney/Pixar is clearly seconds away from suing my ass... (after they're done laughing about buying LucasFilm and the potential to further bastardize Star Wars), but still, I seek your approval.

Anyhoo... I hope you like it. I do. Now I just have to figure out how to change my Blogger name and make sure my archives don't disappear into the ether.

- After I complimented him on his love of veggies while he crunched on some carrots:
Big One: "T-Rexes- with two fingers (holds up two fingers like a t-rex)- they eat carrots, too."
Me: "Do you mean carrion? T-Rexes like to eat carrion?"
Big One: "Nope. Just carrots."
Turns out they're WAY less scary than we originally thought.

- Explaining Jack and the Beanstalk: "Jack came from the bean-stop." Yup. Sho' nuff, little dude.

- Big One: "When I'm really big, I wanna touch the dark. I want to fall off the earf [earth] and touch the dark."
Me: "Do you mean you want to be an astronaut?"
Big One: "Yes! I want to be an astronaut and touch the dark!"
Whoa. Just... whoa.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

We just returned home from a trip to honor the passing of my husband's grandfather. It was important that we go, that we be there with our family and remember- together- all of the wonderful things about this man. That we grieve- together- and say goodbye.

I am so glad we went and it turned out to be an incredible opportunity to spend time with family members we love but rarely see. But it also brought up a lot of things I wasn't prepared to talk about with my young children. We had to explain to our 3 year old, for the first time, what death is.

It was a startlingly daunting task- one I knew we'd have to tackle soon, but I didn't expect to have to explain it in reference to us- to one of our own. Explaining to a 3 year old that one of their family members has died is strange moment in the life of a parent.

I sought out the help of the parent educator at my son's co-op preschool, and I'm incredibly thankful for all of her advice. She guided me through how to speak about death to a preschool aged child (use clear, simple language- avoid phrasing like "passed away") and how to explain what happens ("when we get old, our bodies stop working, so we die"). When we discovered that there was to be an open casket viewing, both my husband and I worried about how the Big One would react. The Little One wouldn't really understand what was happening, but the Big One has frequent nightmares and scares relatively easily. I worried about how he would handle seeing a dead body for the first time and the trauma it could cause him. Our parent educator was so reassuring and gave wonderful advice about allowing the child to lead the way and choose what they want to do. As a result of her guidance, I felt much more comfortable as we left for our trip.

In the end, both kids handled it SO much better than I ever could have expected. They spent long hours in the car and in the funeral home, behaved very well for exhausted kids at both the viewing and the funeral, and, in their own ways, said goodbye. The Big One understood that something serious was going on and that people were feeling sad. He sat quietly through the funeral as his family members cried softly next to him. He climbed into the lap of his grandfather as we said our final goodbye at the cemetery. As we drove away he said, "I'm going to miss my old Grandpa."

I often forget how much we underestimate our children. We don't realize how much they really understand. How much they see and hear. How closely they listen and how much they get it. We may have had to explain what death is, but we didn't have to explain the sense of loss that comes along with it. We didn't have to explain that the people around him needed a little extra quiet and little extra love. We didn't have to explain that family is important.

This experience gave us the opportunity to show our children how we rally together when we need to. How, through death, we can celebrate life.

As worried as I was about the entire experience and as sad as I knew it would be, I could not be more grateful for wonderful things that came out of it. We were able to honor and celebrate a wonderful man- a leader in our family- and to show our children what love and support look like. We were able to be together, as a family, and say goodbye.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

He has always been obsessed with shoes- it was one of his first words in fact- and has long been stealing shoes out of the boys' shoe basket to wear around the house. More recently, he's slipped on Daddy's sneakers or Mama's red Kanga's.

But lately, he has taken a particular shine to my fancier shoes. He sneaks into the closet and comes out looking much snazzier than before. Yesterday, he clomped by in my black studded flats. Today, my red patent leather wedges, accessorized with a multicolored maraca.

About Me

I am the stay-at-home mama of a five and a half year old and a four year old. (I'm exhausted just typing that.) I am also a practicing and recovering English teacher with a gig as content writer. I have a deep, intense love for coffee, dark beer, poetry, short stories, chocolate, sleep and wit.
I created this blog in an effort to maintain my writing and my sanity. One for two ain't bad.
I'm also an essayist and can be found contributing regularly at Rattle & Pen and Luna Luna Magazine.
Feel free to comment, commiserate or question. Thanks for stopping by!